


The Great Escape

by Talullah



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2197047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The help of Imladris is not perfectly happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Patricia for the lovely beta! All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Written for jaiden_s who asked for a humorous story with a physical situation of someone in the middle. Example: Erestor is stuck in the middle seat of a bench between the twins. Glorfindel is in the middle of a ring of angry Elleths. So... not very humorous but I did try. ;)
> 
> fanfic100 prompt 002: middles.
> 
> monday_smut October challenge C.
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Imladris, 138 Third Age**

Melpomaen sighed. It was always the same thing: Elrond and Celebrían would be involved in their official affairs and he would be babysitting the twins. Erestor would get all the credit, as responsible for their education, of course. Presently, he found himself melting under the torrid September sun, holding two impatient and tired elflings by their sweaty little hands. The sun was unforgiving, but the Lord and Lady of Imladris were too absorbed in their self-appointed duties as priest and priestess of nature and bountiful harvests or whatever they figured themselves to be. Melpomaen was certain that Yavanna knew they were all appreciative of her gifts. There was no point in torturing hard-working, decent elves with all those rites.

He much preferred the days where the beginning of harvests was a simple matter of putting on work clothes and going to the fields do the work, and have a simple feast at night around camp-fires. Those days were gone now. Ever since Elrond had married Celebrían, he tried hard to impress her with pompous ceremonies to celebrate the smallest, commonest aspects of life. Melpomaen suspected that even Celebrían had grown tired. Still, there they were standing, listening to Elrond's endless speech, the words so powerful they numbed the minds and feet of those who had to stand and pretend to care.

Elrond continued relentless. Melpomaen could feel the children getting restless. Elladan squeezed his hand, increasing the unpleasant feeling of hot, sweaty skin, and Elrohir shuffled his feet, coming closer to his side in search for shade. They both looked up in search of some assurance. There was nothing he could do but to smile faintly. He needed reassurance himself.

A wicked thought crossed his mind: everybody said he was 'delicate' when they really meant effeminate... why not give them more food for thought? He could hold his breath in for long enough to faint. In the best possible scenario Elrond and Celebrían would see their ceremony ruined or at least tainted but who could blame him for fainting? Hopefully, they would consider leaving him out of their next ceremony. Without their main caretaker present, the children would probably be tended to by those closest to them: Erestor or eventually Lindir or Glorfindel. All going well, someone would accompany him to his quarters, probably Glorfindel since he was supposedly the strongest. Depending on his mood, Mel would even invite him in for a cold drink... although solitude had much more appeal. Meanwhile, Erestor or better yet, Lindir would be stuck with two impatient, irritated elflings. That would suit him fine.

Melpomaen glanced at Lindir, by Erestor's side. He heartily resented Lindir for having all the 'good parts' in the children's education. It was understood that the children of a lord would be raised by his finest help, and Melpomaen did not dispute that, but it unnerved him that Lindir was chosen for all the fun activities, whereas the interminable chores were reserved for him. It was not infrequent to hear Elrond or Celebrían admonishing their children with threats of extra school work with him or with punishments related with the library work at his responsibility. Why could they not send them to order sheet music or clean stables or help the cook? On the other hand, when the children deserved rewards to whom did they send them? To Lindir! "Go play outside with Lindir, dears." "Good boy. Lindir will play you a tune." Not that it was Lindir's fault, but it still annoyed him.

Elladan whimpered and Melpomaen realized he had pressed his little hand too hard. He smiled down in apology, deciding to put his plan to work immediately. With an imperceptible grin, he contracted his diaphragm, slowly expelling all air from his lungs. Under that heat it would take no time for him to faint, he was sure.

Two pairs of eyes looked up concerned, but Melpomaen smiled in reassurance. He held his breath and waited. Nothing. He felt that he would suck all the air in the valley if he took a breath, but there was not the slightest sign of dizziness. He had to take a short gasp - he didn't want to die, after all. Elladan looked up to him with a concerned frown. Melpomaen gave him a small smile and pointed with his chin to where the ceremony took place.

The longer he held his breath, the hotter he felt, but there were no signs of light-headedness. His plan had to work! He made an effort to expel the last breath from his lungs. His eyes stung and he felt a drop of sweat rolling down his back. Nothing!

Elrohir pulled his sleeve for attention. Melpomaen looked down to him, and the world looked down with him. More than falling, he felt as if he slid down a satiny slope, twirls of bright colours spinning around him, darkening as he fell. Then it was all black. He could hear faint voices and movement around him but a delicious blanket of night covered him.

Soft slaps on his face and a few mumbled words... Lindir. "I'll take him," he heard say.

So his plan hadn't worked out quite as he expected, but that was fine. As long as he didn't have to stay under the sun any more.

"That was quite a stunt you pulled," Lindir said as soon as they were out of hearing range.

Melpomaen was no longer unconscious but he pretended to be, in fear of being returned to the ceremony.

"Excuse me?" he asked half-heartedly.

"Making yourself faint. I should try that one of these days when Elrond asks me yet again for 'The Fall of Gil-galad'. He rolled his eyes, extracting a chuckle from Melpomaen.

"Can I put you down now?" Lindir panted. "We're not in sight any more."

"Sure," Melpomaen replied as he unscrambled himself from Lindir's arms.

"Eh, since we're both off the hook, let's have a cold drink," he offered. It was the least he could do. Lindir had been awfully decent in covering his little trick.

"Sounds good."

They walked in silence to the Last Homely House, Melpomaen leading. "Shall we go into the library? It's the coolest place in the house."

Lindir nodded. "The cellar is not so bad either and Elladan and Elrohir are forbidden to go there."

Melpomaen raised an eyebrow.

"Well, sometimes a person needs a bit of peace... you should know that, despite that you always get the good part in what regards their education."

Melpomaen halted in his tracks. "You are jesting, surely."

Lindir shrugged. "Not really..."

Melpomaen moved his eyebrow to impossible heights, waiting for clarification.

"Well, it's embarrassing, but I might as well say it," Lindir started reluctantly. "Have you ever noticed that whenever the boys have a question or they are supposed to be learning something important they are sent to you? I'm just the guy who sings for them and plays with them. Just the other day Elladan was asking questions about the Song of the Morning Star and Elrond sent him to you with me standing by their side. I try not to feel insulted, but we all know you are the smart one and I am the fun one."

Melpomaen rolled his eyes. "I hear you..."

"Eh, here it is." They stopped at the cellar door and exchanged a grin of understanding.

 

"We should turn the tables on them one of these days," Melpomaen suggested as he followed Lindir down the stairs.

Lindir chuckled. "For now, I just want to get plastered." Lindir walked to the end of a row of barrels and extracted two tin mugs from the space between the last two. He poured wine and offered one of the mugs to Melpomaen.

"I wish you had seen Elrond's face," he said after his first sip. "That was absolutely priceless."

"Eh, really?"

"Absolutely. He looked like someone had kicked him in the groin." Lindir chortled. "The disruption didn't make Celebrían that unhappy, though... and Erestor was stuck with the twins. I'm betting you liked that part." Lindir grinned widely.

"I hope they weren't scared..."

"Not at all - they insisted they should come with me to take care of you. Poor things."

Melpomaen smiled. "They are sweet children. One can't blame them for Elrond's idiosyncrasies, let's call them."

"Eh... He's not a bad sort. We could do worse."

"True."

They both sipped their wine in silence, thinking of the way Elrond had changed their lives for the better.

Lindir broke the silence. "Well, let's hope this newly-wed phase is over soon."

"Hardly," Melpomaen sighed. "It hasn't been a yen since they were married."

Lindir sighed. "True. To endurance," he toasted, resigned.

"To the turning of tables and new alliances," Melpomaen replied, with a glint in his eye, clashing his mug to Lindir's.

Lindir laughed. "Hear, hear!!"

 

_Finis  
October 2006_


End file.
